


True Lord of the Dance

by QueenoftheRandomWord42



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2014 pop culture references, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes is an engineer in this fic, Bucky is not the Winter Soldier, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Islamiphobia in one scene, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Now with cats, Past Character Death, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shrunkyclunks, Shrunkyclunks Big Bang 2018, Slow Burn, Special thanks to thunderboltsortofapenny for the spotify play list, Steve Heals and learns to dance, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Witnessed a character (not named) attempt suicide, Steve meets Bucky while learning to dance, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Team as Family, This is a fic where Steve fails to save someone and the fic deals with the aftermath, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, but Bucky drives the bully off, but there are Winter Soldiers in this fic, this is a recovery fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheRandomWord42/pseuds/QueenoftheRandomWord42
Summary: Honestly, Steve never expected to have a moment in his friendship with Howard Stark that he’d regret."...but It’s easy to get distracted by the big picture, so remember to stop and treat yourself to a nice dance from time to time.” Howard read aloud, then he paused, “Wait, is the fourth of July really your birthday?”“Yes, yes Howard, it is.” Steve laughed.“And I’ve seen one of your shows, you’re a real lord of the dance.” Howard rolled his eyes at that with a bit of a laugh.“Laugh it up Howard.” Steve muttered.But when a sarcastic comment gets taken out of context, and Steve wakes up in the 21st Century with a sudden dancing reputation and Steve is expected to perform, he's gotta learn to dance.Learning to dance proves to be challenging, but it might be made easier by a classmate of his who answers to the name Bucky.





	1. Sing Sing Sing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for reading this, I wrote this for the 2018 ShrunkyClunks Big Bang, and I want to thank the people on Slack who helped with brainstorming ideas for this fic, Awpurpleno for finding so many typos (and if there are any more those are entirely my fault), and [ thunderboltsortofapenny](http://thunderboltsortofapenny.tumblr.com/) for this [amazing spotify play list](https://open.spotify.com/user/thunderboltsortofapenny88/playlist/10s2mZyJYbvcadr59dJj1m)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've found some errors that slipped though the editing process in this chapter, and I couldn't rest until I fixed them, so I thought you guys would appreciate me fixing the errors I found, sorry for the mix up. The formatting the essay at the end was a pain and if anyone has any ideas how I can put a PDF in the middle of chapter that would be appreciated.

Honestly, Steve never expected to have a moment in his friendship with Howard Stark that he’d regret.

Sure, Stark was arrogant civilian genus, but the man knew machines, technology, and was rather cosmopolitan, and even Steve could be impressed with how worldly and wise he could convince his audience.

The Howling Commandos were waiting on base, tired and relieved when by sheer luck they managed to capture Zola with no casualty, though Steve had a close call with a broken wall when A Hydra Agent aimed a tesseract fueled blast at him, and Steve managed to deflect it with his shield, the ray gun hit the wall of the train compartment, causing the agent to be sucked out and fall to his death. The man’s screams were just another thing to add to Steve’s nightmares.

Now after they successfully captured Zola they were waiting for Phillips to finish interrogating one of the slimy little men who made the lives for the Howling Commandos miserable.

Of course, Hydra hadn’t anticipated that they would have created their own worst enemy.

And right now, the Commandos were bored.

Dum Dum rolled his eyes and turned the page on a London newspaper. “Check out these Horoscopes, they still do them?”

“I guess with a war on people want a little luck.” Falsworth pointed out, and Dernier asked a few questions to Gabe, who answered back.

Mortia went from leaning back on the desk to perched forward with curiosity, “I was born on October 20th, so what does that paper say that’s in my future?”

Steve grinned, he remembered the kind of penny dreadful his friend Arnie would find for them, and when both were boys they tried to find all sorts of books to read about adventure, the fantasy books were especially Steve’s favorite.

“Captain Rogers? Telegram for you.” A private called as he entered the room. Steve nodded.

“You guys go ahead and read them, I’ll be right back.”

Steve followed the private out into the hall and was handed the sheet of paper the telegram was transcribed on, he was about to open the envelope and read it when Howard poked his head out of the door and said “Rogers, you’ve got to hear yours, it hilarious.”

“What does it say?”

“Cancer: Your quick wits and strategic thinking will pay off in the long run, but It’s easy to get distracted by the big picture, so remember to stop and treat yourself to a nice dance from time to time.” Howard read aloud, then he paused, “Wait, is the fourth of July really your birthday?”

“Yes, yes Howard, it is.” Steve laughed.

“And I’ve seen one of your shows, you’re a true lord of the dance.” Howard rolled his eyes at that with a bit of a laugh.

“Laugh it up Howard.” Steve muttered before he lifted his envelope. “I’m going to read this.”

“Do you need anything else sir?” The private asked.

“Oh, no, you’re dismissed.”

The Private left quickly, and Steve looked at his telegram.

Then he read it again.

And again.

The words were printed in plain crisp English, but Steve didn’t want to believe it.

But here it was, a death announcement.

His friend Arnie Roth’s ship went down in the Pacific.

His eyes burned, and his stomach tightened and twisted like some little maniac had grabbed his entrails and began to braid them.

Steve looked up, and saw he was alone, Howard must have left him to read in privacy, which was nice, but also meant he didn’t have anyone to talk to about what he just read.

He also felt like he needed a drink.

Steve excused himself and went to the local bar close to headquarters.

The Bar had been closed after a recent air raid had reduced the bar in to rubble, but it suited Steve, who picked his way across the debris and found the table where he formed the Howling Commandos with a grin, some money, and a few rounds of beers, and he found a chair, the one he suspected was the one he was sitting in when he had to twist his neck around and gaze at Peggy in her red dress.

But Steve’s mind wasn’t on that night.

He pulled out his wallet and put money in the register, enough for the bottles of the cheapest alcohol he could get his hands on and placed them on the table.

His mind was on all the small jobs he and Arnie had to scrape enough for their first apartment after Ma died, and Arnie’s father kicked Arnie out after an argument.

Steve never knew what they argued about, but “little Irish punk” was the last thing Steve heard Mr. Roth shout before Arnie picked up his bag and muttered “Good riddance.”

Arnie swore up and down that Steve wasn’t the reason for the argument, but before Steve could demand the truth out of Arnie, some asshole had started to harass the black paperboy down the street, and well Steve wasn’t about to let a bully get away with harassing a kid.

Steve forgot to ask Arnie again, and Arnie never brought it up after shoving a cold cloth on to Steve’s brand-new shiner, and shoving a handkerchief onto his own split lip.

Steve’s mind was on the childhood books full of penny dreadfuls and pulp novels about heroes and adventurers in science fiction worlds with tales to astonish and amaze. Steve himself could not get enough stories like the Hobbit and stories about magic.

Arnie would sometimes borrow Steve’s library books or read aloud to Steve when Steve’s eyes began to blur from illness, sometimes reading their school books, but most times distracting Steve from his painful present with stories of adventures.

Both kept returning to the Hobbit and Beowulf, with Steve dreaming of being as strong as the hero who saved the Danes from the terror of Grindle and the dragon.

Arnie told Steve that he expected pictures of Steve after Steve reported having “A bout of good health” when it was revealed by the SSR that Steve couldn’t tell Arnie about the serum. Steve wanted to see Arnie’s face when he saw him again.

Then Steve would recall that he wouldn’t hear Arnie read aloud to him, or see Arnie’s face when Steve showed him his new body. And Steve could never repay his friend for all the joy and fun that he had given him growing up during the great depression.

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve stopped to realized he was staring at a few recently emptied bottles, but there was no warm numbness in his gut, his eyes were hot and wet, but he refused to cry.

Steve turned and in reminiscent of the night he saw Peggy in her splendid red dress, there she stood in her uniform, picking her way across wood splinters and broken glass until she came to the table.

Steve took a shuddering breath as he saw Peggy eye the bottles, and weakly, handed her the telegram.

Her face softened as she read the news.

“You mustn’t blame yourself Steve,” She began, and Steve deflated a little more. “Arnie certainly wouldn’t.”

“We don’t know what Arnie would think, he’s dead, and I can’t meet him in the middle.”

“Pardon?”

“It was something we had when we were kids, when I got into a fist fight he’d join, and we’d try to make our way in to the center and fight back to back to make sure the other didn’t get jumped from behind,” Steve finished the drink in his glass, and when that finished glass reminded him that he didn’t feel the light headed swirll or warm bellied certainly that early stages of getting drunk, he put his glass down.

Peggy placed her hand on the hand holding the glass, “It sounds like Arnie knew you were worth it.”

Steve felt his lip twitch, but he couldn’t cry, and he didn’t want to talk about Arnie now, or ever.

“Did you know that Erskine mentioned that a side effect of the serum that I might not get drunk? That the cells would have a protective layer that would regenerate, so the alcohol would be burned away before it affected them?”

“I read about that,” Peggy noted, “The serum also boosts your metabolism so that means you can burn through most toxins before they damage your cells.”

They sat in silence for a bit, Steve feeling in his gut how much he wanted this fucking war to be over. He didn’t verbalize it, but he knew HYDRA had to be stopped, then Steve would find his way to the middle, and take down all the Axis powers.

Steve felt Peggy’s fingers stroke the back of his hand, and glanced up at her, and while Arnie was gone, Steve would be rushing right to the center of the fight, and he’d have all the Howling Commandos at his back.

He’d just have to avenge Arnie by ending this forsaken war, then he’d have to figure what to do next.

And Steve’s heart sank, he didn’t have Arnie to teach him to dance. He didn’t realize he verbalized that until he heard Peggy answer.

“Then I’ll teach you, we’ll start slow.” Peggy prodded, “it sounds like the perfect way to celebrate the end of the war.”

Steve gave her a watery grin.

In the end, their promises were all for nothing when Schmidt was defeated, and Steve had to crash the plane into the Arctic, his heart broke when he had to ask Peggy for a raincheck on their dance.

***

_Kathrine Dusk_

_American Historical Culture and Influence in the Twentieth Century_

_ANTH 459_

_March 10th 1984_

_“True Lord of the Dance” or How Captain America’s Dancing Reputation influenced the Century_

Captain Steven Rogers, Leader of the Howling Commandos, and better known as “Captain America” was a great military leader, and a beacon of hope and courage during a rather dark period in world history, but it was not only his military exploits to take down Hydra inspiring, but also his reputation after his untimely death in 1945, had led to inspiring people for decades after. He was well known for his headstrong attitude, but careful planning, and never lost a man on the battlefield, a feat that is still today next to unheard of. The Howling Commandos struck Nazi Science division, HYDRA, disabling shipments and blowing up factories and facilities, leading to the eventual Allies Victory in Europe by May 1945 (Humbugle 1967). But that was not all he was known for.

Captain Steven Rogers grew up in Brooklyn New York, born in 1918 to an Irish Immigrant Mother Sarah Rogers, and a deceased American Soldier, Joseph Rogers, who fought in France during World War I (Humbugle, 1976). Mrs. Rogers worked hard to raise her only child during the roaring twenties, where in Harlem the Harlem Renaissance was taking place, innovating and spreading Jazz music and black culture, and spreading swing dance outside of the black community during the twenties and thirties. Growing up in such a culturally rich environment it most likely inspired young Rogers to express himself with dancing, as it was the popular thing to do when one wanted to interact with one’s own peers after the hard and grueling work or the disheartening searches for jobs during the Great Depression.

“I tried to teach him,” Said childhood friend Arnold Roth when he was interviewed by modern historian Brian Humbugle in 1955, “but I guess only the serum cured Steve’s two left feet, because he’d give a good honest try, and would dance even if his back was aching or his breathing made it difficult, and I believe he found it a little discouraging when no dame would ask him to dance.”

Roth was a childhood friend of Rogers who grew up in the same neighborhood block, and while Rogers was serving in USO selling war bonds and then in Europe as the leader of the Howling Commandos, Roth served in the Pacific.

“I used to write ‘Meet ya in the middle’ as a letter closer, to imply that he’d take out the Nazis and the Italians in Europe, and I’d take down the Japanese in the pacific.” Roth mused in Humbugle’s interview (Humbugle, 1955). “But then my ship went down and Michael [Former shipmate and now close friend of Roth’s] and me were stranded in the South Pacific. By the time we were rescued by Allied forces, Steve had gone down in the Arctic, and had been dead for weeks, so I never got to write to him to tell him I was alright.”

It was likely that Rogers learned how to finally dance during the USO tours after he tried to learn from his childhood friend, and mastered his ability to dance enough to impress

Howard Stark, who was reported by a Private Archibald Goodchild, to have said “I’ve seen one of your shows, you’re a true lord of the dance.” (Goodchild, 1945).

Goodchild remembered, and had recorded that quote down into his personal war time journal, and after the war he became a superintendent at his local school district in 1948, where in a bid to encourage more children to participate in their physical education, pulled up Howard Stark’s quote to promote in posters around the school. Many of the parents and students were so impressed by Captain America’s ability to dance that fewer students were skipping Physical Education, and more schools around the country began spreading around the posters and promotional information to keep students active across the country.

Soon movies and advertisers began using Captain America’s surprising dancing talent to advertise a great variety of products, from US Army Recruitment during the Korean and Vietnam war, to bubble gum, cartoons, to even DDT (Karlson 1979), to even in movies where in Musicals would claim that men could “Dance like Captain America” or “Can’t claim to be like Rogers”.

Even in the 1969 movie “Captain America! An American Legend” (Samson and Davis, 1969) was changed halfway through production to be a musical, which created mixed opinions among critics, was vastly popular among audiences across the United States, and caused a few people that year to hum “I’m Just a Kid from Brooklyn” the movie’s reoccurring theme when they wanted to feel inspired, or punch fascists, as much of that dance choreography was based around Roger’s punching Hydra and Nazis.

It appears that many Americans owe a lot of inspiration during much of American history, even today when movies are being made to Captain Steven Rogers. Music videos are rumored to be the future, we expect to see at least more than one dancer in a Captain America suit to pirouette in the background of a shot or two for many decades to come.


	2. I Can't Dance

_The Helicarrier was crashing around Steve, as he pushed his way, Charlie Lock successful and Project Insight was successfully foiled, then he heard the scream of pain, and looked down._

His stomach dropped, and he saw—

The ceiling of his bedroom as the alarm clock on his phone went off and Steve had to shove his hand under his pillow to shut it off.

Steve shuddered, as he turned in his sheets and tried to rub his tired eyes, and climbed out of bed, hoping that his dream wouldn’t affect the rest of his day.

***

It did

Steve looked outside to see that the rain came down heavy in the New York Skyline, burnt his tongue on his coffee, and his meeting with Tony Stark for charity events to get his mind off his nightmares, only to realize he might have misheard Stark earlier.

“You signed me up for what?” Steve asked Tony slowly, making eye contact, and if the situation had called for it, Steve would have inserted the “Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you” tone into his voice. But that wouldn’t work in Stark’s living room in Stark tower with a dark grey cloudy sky and rain drops pelting the windows of Stark Tower.

Tony Stark was unfazed and a little confused.

“A Charity Dance competition for funding the VA’s mental health department, I know Wilson told you about it, he’s been talking about little else.” Tony shrugged. “I signed myself up too, and Pepper’s looking forward to dancing with me, besides everyone knows how good a dancer you are.”

No, no he was not.

Steve fought down a rant, but it wasn’t Tony’s fault that Steve woke up with a very derived public image that had been a product of over 70 years of propaganda, if anything, Tony was only trying to help when Steve wanted to brainstorm ideas for charities Steve could work for after a time between missions had Steve literally crawling up the walls of his apartment and Sam had to talk him down.

It wasn’t the younger Stark’s fault that Steve Rogers had an undeserved dancing reputation.

Truth was that long ago, Steve tried to learn, but Arnie’s careful instruction in their old apartment didn’t amount to much when Steve struggled to adjust and learn the steps, and the promised practice on the dance floor never committed the dance steps to memory when the ladies at the dance halls refused to dance on someone they might step on.

And the serum did nothing to cure his two left feet during his USO tours, and the choreographer simply made Steve pose and march instead of dancing with the chorus girls.

Tony looked at him expectantly, and if possibly a little worried. Steve knew he had told Tony he’d do whatever charity Tony picked last week, so really this was Steve’s fault.

“Sure, that sounds like a great idea.” Steve answered, his mind racing a mile a minute, he’d figure something out.

“Alright, is something wrong Steve?” Sam asked early the next morning.

Steve had been up half the night after having another nightmare, and had spent half of his needed sleeping hours trying to figure out how to discreetly solve his dancing problem, but Steve felt too tired to make a worthwhile effort after he tried to look up dance instructions on google, but text of the google search blurred his vision.

Steve welcomed Sam’s offer to go running again when the text came at the normal hour and Steve carefully deleted his browsing history and ran up to grab his running clothing. 

The exercise had done Steve some good, as the burning muscles, the accomplishment Steve felt when he passed little, and the heightened blood flow helped Steve feel more awake and relaxed, at least while the runner’s high was in his system. 

“Huh?” Steve asked, returning to the present.

“Steve?” Sam asked again, screwing the cap of his water bottle closed and looking closely at Steve. “You only passed me twice, that’s two thirds the normal amount you pass me normally, so I want to ask, what’s up?”

Then Sam’s face softened, “Was it nightmares again?”

"No," Steve answered shortly, but he saw the gentle understanding in Sam's eyes, and the added, "Not entirely."

Sam didn’t press, letting Steve talk at his own pace.

“I asked Tony to sign me up to a charity, and he signed me up for the Veterans Mental Health Dance Off.”

“Is this a problem?” Sam asked concerned.

“No, I told him to sign me up, except….”

“You’re not used to modern Ballroom dancing?” Sam asked.

“Or any kind of dancing,” Steve admitted.

Sam looked surprised, but then understanding replaced his expression.

“Ah, well that’s easily fixable, there’s a dance studio owned by one of our vet’s wife and the studio’s a few blocks away.”

If there was a vice on Steve’s chest, it was gone now.

“Sam, you are a lifesaver.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Steve followed Sam, keeping pace as it looked like the two were continuing their morning run instead of making a detour around where they usually stretched to the dance studio. Sam was right, it was only two blocks away and the stop lights were long enough for them to jog in place for only a few seconds before the crosswalks allowed them to walk.

The Studio was nice looking, the walls were white and the windows were large but very clean, with the name being “Moonlight and Dusk Studios” engrained on the windows.

Inside the studio was nice, with a waiting room and a desk by the front, but to the back was a wood floor with benches along the back and a mirrored wall perpendicular to the street.

A man with brown hair exited the studio with a grin, and Steve did a double take, the man looked familiar, but Steve had no idea where he might have seen the other man.

But Steve was reminded a little of Stark Tower, but not of Tony himself…

Weird.

Sam was greeted warmly by the middle aged mediterranean woman behind the desk who had her long black and silver striped hair pulled up in a bun.

“Sam, we were just thinking about you, we wanted to thank you so much for what you said last week, it helped a lot.”

“Glad to help.” Sam answered, and Steve leaned back to let Sam do the talking.

Sam made small talk for moments before be brought up the subject of dancing.

“My friend and I were planning on taking your ballroom dance courses, and we wanted to know if had any openings in the next class, I know you guys often need reservations ahead of time, and didn’t want to presume.”

Steve was blown away at how charming Sam was.

“Actually you two are lucky, or I should say Kathy is, her beginner’s ballroom class is short a couple of leads and she’s starting next week.” The woman behind the desk said, pulling up something on the computer screen.

Sam looked at Steve and grinned as if to say ‘See, told you so.’ Steve smiled gratefully.

Steve, stomach tightening, remembering a bombed out bunker in Camp Leigh, tried not to look too closely at the screen, but could see in the mirror reflection it was just a spreadsheet. That loosened the knot in his stomach and Steve tried not to feel embarrassed.

“How long does the class last? For scheduling purposes.” Steve asked, thankful his voice was calm.

“Oh, we usually schedule them for ten weeks.”

And seeing as the Charity was in three months, that gave Steve two weeks to work out a routine with his new skills.

“So should I put you two down for Kathy’s six o’clock classes? Many of our dancers like to come here after work, but it is an mixed age group. We even have a father-daughter duo, and it’s just the sweetest thing.”

“Thank you Medea, you have no idea how much we appreciate that.” Sam answered.

Steve could see Medea enter in “Sam W.” and “Steve. R” under “James. B”.

Steve felt his heart lighten.

“So that will be Twenty dollars a class per person, three times a week, or six hundred dollars total, but for you Sam, we’d be happy to give you the family and friends’ discount, so that will be four hundred and fifty.”

“Sounds good.” Sam began, but before he reached for his wallet, Steve stepped up.

“Actually Sam, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to pay for it, since I asked you where I could learn to dance,” Steve said.

Medea looked thrilled. “Well, that’s quite generous, and any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine after all the help he’d done for our family. That will be nine hundred dollars please.”

Steve was never so relieved he could write the check now.

“Rogers is it?” Medea asked, glancing at the check before putting it in the cash register. “Were you named after Captain America by any chance?”

“In a sense.” Steve hedged.

“Well, let’s hope you get blessed by your namesake’s dancing skills.” Medea answered with a wink.


	3. Shut up and Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has the start of the Steve and Sharon Carter friendship, but the end game is still Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, so prepare for a failed date.

Steve followed Sam into the early morning sun, feeling lighter and a little more prepared, pleased but tired.

Then Steve caught a glimpse of a familiar face, and he almost called her by the wrong name.

It was Kate--No Sharon, Sharon the former SHIELD Agent, turned CIA agent, and Steve’s former neighbor before Hydra had demolished the wall to Steve’s old apartment to assassinate Fury.

“Sharon?” Steve said aloud to solidify her name.

And it looked like she had finished her own morning run, as her hair was tied back, and her dull grey workout clothing was carried sweat stain spots, but her eyes were bright, and she had a quiet grin of accomplishment. Clearly she didn’t hear him.

_“You should ask out Sharon, she’s nice.” Natasha advised beside Fury’s grave._

“Hey Steve, I need to hurry so I can get to work, so I’ll see you later?” Sam gently elbowed Steve to get his attention, and Steve turned back to Sam.

“See ya Sam, I wouldn’t dare be the reason Sam Wilson is late for work.”

“Laugh it up, Steve.” Sam departed with a wave heading back to his apartment to get ready for his shift.

Steve waved Sam goodbye, and was surprised to see Sharon walking towards him.

So, Steve would to ask out Sharon out on a date, now that she no longer had any conflict of interests as part of his security detail. It had only been six weeks after Triskelion and maybe Sharon would say yes.

Steve waited until the crosswalk flashed the walking icon before he approached the corner Sharon was crossing to.

“Hey Neighbor.”

Sharon grinned. “Oh hey Steve, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, Sam and I took a detour around here on our run this morning.”

“Uh huh,” Sharon seemed to glance at Steve with a that soft smile, like she could see bags under his eyes or something. Steve was growing a little self conscious before she asked, “How have you been holding up, it’s been six weeks right?”

Six weeks since Steve discovered Hydra was infiltrating SHIELD and rendering Sharon possibly unemployed, and tossing her aunt’s legacy down the toilet? For the sake of saving the world. Six weeks since…

“I’m fine.” Steve was thankful his voice didn’t go weird, he supposed it was because it was Sharon, someone familiar and new, but when Sharon turned her head a little, Steve decided he should say something, and he didn’t want another raincheck like he did with Peggy.

“So, would you be interested in coffee, or would you prefer to just forget it?” Steve asked.

Sharon’s eyes lit a little in pleased surprise.

“I won’t be opposed, but I don’t have time for coffee right now,” Sharon began.

“Oh,” Well Steve tried, and Sharon was nice about it.

“But I’m open for dinner on Sunday, seven work?”

“Perfect.”

***

Sunday came quickly, and Steve felt like he was doing well for once. Sam gave helpful pointers for Steve’s outfit, he was on time, and Sharon liked the daffodil Steve bought on his way here (he didn’t think the price of the roses were worth it, and Steve didn’t think inflation was to blame).

The restaurant Sharon picked was a simple brew pub that offered food that ranged from beer battered fish and chips to burgers, to a rather diverse vegetarian menu, and twenty minutes in, Steve felt like things were going well.

Granted Steve didn’t know the first thing about fishing or scuba diving, and was surprised to find out Sharon learned how to do both for the sake of a work project (which Steve knew meant the details she’d never, ever talk about), and she found she was quite good at spear fishing, and it implied she found some missing cameras when she found a Giant Pacific octopus taking selfies with it, and trying to run off with the Lingcod she caught as a cover.

Steve had to read between the lines a little, but on the surface, it was still a pretty neat story.

“It was actually rather cute, but in the end, I relinquished my cod for the sake of the little gopro camera. The local fisherman was quite happy to have his crab cage monitoring gopro back. The octopus was even smart enough to figure out how to use my thumb against me to weaken my grip on the fish, and of course, the thumb is the weakest part of your opponent’s grip.” Sharon explained, and Steve nodded sagely. “Didn’t even hurt, just twisted the tail right out of my grip.”

“That sounds amazing Peg.” Steve answered, then froze.

SHIT!

“What did you call me?” Sharon asked slowly, and she sounded a little hurt.

“Uh,” Steve scrambled to backtrack, but he caught Sharon’s eye.

Sharon gave Steve a calm calculating look, the kind that, unfortunately for Steve, ran in the Carter family apparently. Shit, this was going to be like the fondue incident of 1943 isn’t it?

“Look Steve, you’re a really nice guy, and you’re a lot fun to hang out with.” Sharon began. “And while I’m flattered that you’re willing to put me in the same category as my aunt, I am, you do know we’re different people, right?”

Okay, maybe not like the fondue incident, but Steve still felt horrible.

It was then the waitress punctuated the tension by approaching the table with their orders, before the waitress paused, obviously reading the tension at the table, and said “Enjoy your meal, and may I refill your drinks?”

Steve and Sharon shook their heads, and the waitress ran off in an awkward rush.

Steve took a deep breath, “yes, you are two different people, Sharon, I want to apologize for that.”

Sharon looked less hurt, but like Sam, she was good at reading him.

“So, tell me, what do you intend to get out of this evening?”

“I wanted a nice night out with someone I like.” Steve began.

Sharon looked understanding. “That’s understandable, and after the chaos lately, maybe neither of us are ready for dating yet.” She added.

“No, no, I” Steve stuttered, but Sharon gave him an understanding look.

“You’re right,” Steve admitted, “maybe I’m not ready to date.”

“And that’s alright, lucky for you Steve, I have tons of guy friends, I think it comes with the job, so no harm done.” Sharon patted Steve’s arm. “Still, you’ve got to make it up to me.”

“How so?” Steve asked.

“Well, when I hang out with my guy friends, I pay for my own food, unless he does something he feels warrants apologizing for, then I let them pay for my beer.”

Steve laughed in relief, “I can definitely do that,” then he glanced at her soda.

“Looks like we’ll need to order some beers then.” Sharon nodded, and waited until the waitress returned and asked politely to order their beer.

Both left the waitress a thirty percent tip.


	4. Bei Mir Bist Du Schon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of some mild Islamophobia in this chapter as we deal with a modern day bully, and special "thanks" to my older male cousin for the precious gems the bully dishes out, asshole.

Three days after Tony told Steve about the charity, and the day after the disastrous date with Sharon, Steve was combing over maps and satellite images of a castle in Sokovia.

From the images there wasn’t much to report about, but Steve thought he saw evidence of an odd cinder mark on the ground, and unfortunately the pixels were too large for Steve to examine closely.

Steve, checking his bases, began to comb any shipping manifests of local businesses and shipping companies to see if there were any odd patterns. The state of the local economy was damaged from years of civil war. The images of torn buildings and the statistics of homeless and torn apart families broke Steve’s heart as he read.

Steve considered looking up local charity foundations, probably get some people to invest in the growth of local businesses and…

Steve’s cellphone began ringing, Steve quickly pressed the green phone button on the screen and put it to his ear.

“Hey, this is Steve.” Steve said casually while the other occupants at the coffee shop kept ignoring Steve, thinking it was a college student in the corner working on his geography and economics project, since that was the textbooks planted on the table.

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve looked up when he realized he was getting a ping from Maria Hill.

“Professor Hill, did you get my email about the paper?” Steve asked.

“Well, Fury found evidence the facility in Nicaragua was long abandoned, but he did find evidence that some Hydra bases were still active, so he’ll be ready to take those down.” Hill reported, “But you said you’d have the report on Sokovia ready by five?”

Steve looked at his computer, and did a double take, was it five already? He had to go.

“Sending it over now, and I’ll get the next part of the paper sent in tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Steve, I’ve never had a more diligent student.” Maria Hill answered, playing along with Steve’s cover.

Steve quickly turned off his laptop and packed it into the bland black backpack that he brought along with him and began to walk to the VA where Sam was finishing work.

The last of the veterans that Sam was working with for the evening were leaving as Sam was preparing to leave for the night.

Steve waited until Sam was ready, which he acknowledged with a nod.

“Ready to learn how to cut a rug?” Sam asked as he approached Steve in the lobby.

“Lead the way.” Steve gestured, and they approached the bus stop, where their bus pulled up twenty minutes later.

They climbed on and took a seat in the back, with Steve taking the window seat by sheer chance.

“So how was your day?” Sam asked after five minutes of awkward silence.

“Fine, spent most of it doing homework.” Steve answered, gesturing to the backpack balanced on Steve’s feet. “You?”

But before Sam could even begin to describe his day, a loud voice interrupted their conversation.

“What’s in the bag, girl? It’s not a bomb is it?”

Steve looked up to see a young white man in his thirties talking to what looked like a young teenage girl in a hijab. The girl looked uncomfortable and tried to block the guy sitting across the aisle from her, and she tried to ignore him by looking ahead.

“Now don’t get me wrong, I love the Muslim people, but I believe you can still be saved.” The young man continued, seeming to take her silence as agreement that she’d be interested in talking to him.

Steve knew the type, moreover he had scars from the type of bully that dated back to the thirties before the serum removed them.

Other people were staring at the scene before them, and Steve glared at the young man for bugging the girl. Steve glanced at Sam and mentally debated how he’d get past Sam and tried to figure out how he’d get that bully to shut up and was about to get up to get that bully to face him when something amazing happened.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A new young man, roughly the same age as Steve, asked and when the girl shook her head, he took a seat and extended his hand. “James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

The girl grinned and returned the handshake, “I’m Kamala.”

“Is that an Avatar the Last Airbender Keychain?” Bucky asked in honest interest.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.” Kamala answered.

“Hey! We were talking here!” the first young man exclaimed.

Bucky ignored him, “I think my favorite episode had to be day of black sun, both parts, I was on the edge of my seat when it came out.”

Steve knew he was on the edge of his seat.

Kamala grinned and kept talking about this show, which Steve had no idea, and lead to the debate about what kind of benders they think they’d be. Bucky claimed he’d be a waterbender, while Kamala mentioned she’d probably be an airbender.

Steve turned to Sam, who mouthed “Later”.

“Hey! Why are you talking about a kid’s cartoon?” The bully asked loudly.

“I don’t know about you,” Bucky added keeping his tone even, “But I really hope they don’t mess up the third season of Legend of Korra, I mean I liked the first season fine, but that second season was a mess.”

“Excuse me!”

“Tell me about it,” Kamala added, “I can see how Korra is a polar opposite of Aang, but I felt like Korra was a little too childish and didn’t really grow from the finale of the first season, but fingers crossed.”

“HEY!”

“Will you shut up and leave them alone!” Steve exclaimed in exasperation.

The bus stopped, and the buses passengers stared at Steve, and by proxy Sam.

“Uh, Steve, this is our stop.” Sam said when he saw the studio outside the window.

Steve followed Sam off the bus, holding his backpack by his side as he got off.

Steve passed Bucky and Kamala, who were whispering quietly as he passed, and the loud bully was left behind.

Once Steve and Sam were off the bus, the bus stayed still, and Sam tried to guide Steve to the dance studio.

“Next time I get the window seat,” Sam muttered as they approached the front door and dropped off Steve’s backpack from the cubby farthest from the door and walked to the dance floor.

Steve nodded, but he managed to get the bully’s attention on him, and not the two, so Steve considered that a win. He turned to the dance studio, but when he glanced at the door, he took a double take.

In the door of the Studio stood Bucky and Kamala, but they paid him no mind as they dropped off their own bags and Bucky pulled out a pair of shoes from his own messenger bag.

Steve pulled his eyes away from Bucky and joined the slowly growing group on the dance floor.

There were several men and women ranging from a man in his forties with a girl who looked a lot like him, must have been the father-daughter duo Medea mentioned when they signed up, to a few teenagers who waved and enthusiastically greeted Kamala.

“Kamala, you made it!” A dark-haired girl in purple greeted and Kamala laughed.

Bucky, Steve noticed, began to move to the other side of the room, close to where he and Sam were standing.

Then their teacher entered the dance room from a door from the back of the studio.

“Hello everyone, my name is Katherine Dusk, I am a dance anthropologist and dance instructor at this studio and I want to welcome everyone to Beginning Ballroom.”

Steve turned to look at his instructor, who was an elegantly dressed woman in black pantsuit and slippers, her silver highlighted dark curly hair cut in a bob, and she grinned excitedly at her students.

“Before we get started, I was hoping you guys could introduce yourselves, say your name, if you’re a lead or a follow, and something neat about you that you’d like to share.”

The class slowly began to introduce themselves.

“I’m Kamala Khan, I’m taking this class as a follow, and I’m really good at video games."

“My name is Kate Bishop, I’m a lead, and I’m the best at archery.”

“My name is Logan Howlett--“

“And I’m Laura!”

“And we’re here because the ballet instructor down the street’s an idiot.”

And the rest of the class began to introduce themselves, eventually leading to the last three people to introduce themselves, Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

“I’m Sam Wilson, I’m a lead, and I work at the local VA.” Sam introduced himself, and Bucky spoke up before Steve.

“Bucky Barnes, lead, and I work as an engineer at Stark Industries prosthetics division.”

“I’m Steve Rogers, I’m learning as a lead,” Steve began, and he looked closely at the crowd, everyone was here as equals, and none of them looked at him as anything other than a normal person, which surprised him a little, as he was used to people automatically recognizing him as Captain America. He was still Captain America, and he still had to take down Hydra, but for now for this charity and for this class, he could be Steve Rogers, “and before I joined the military I went to art school.”

Which was true, he was in art class when he and Arnie heard that Pearl Harbor was bombed. Steve felt the familiar ache of Arnie’s absence, but as usual set that aside.

Sam said nothing, but Steve could see that he approved.

“Excellent” Kathy said when Steve finished, “Now, we’re going to begin with a basic swing. Swing dancing is a dance that was developed in Harlem by the Harlem renaissance when the black artists created a dance movement to go with the new jazz music. The dance got its name from how artist would describe the rhythm of the music, so we’ll turn to the mirrors and I’ll show you the basic footwork and rhythm.”

Steve turned to see his own reflection looking back, his instructor turned her back on the class and began with small steps.

“Now when you step, you shift your weight on to the foot on the ground, and then shift your weight to the other foot when you take the second step, for now we’ll practice the dance steps in place, ready?” Kathy began, and Steve tried shifting his weight between his feet without taking them off the ground, and when she was done, the class nodded as one, and Steve rushed to follow the rhythm, mimicking the instructor, but Steve felt his late start didn’t help.

“Stand up straight, look ahead, and feet shoulder width apart, and left, right, left-right, left, right, left-right, slow, slow, quick-quick, slow, slow quick-quick, slow, slow, quick-quick, one, two, three-and-four, one, two, three-and-four.”

Steve could hear the footsteps and tried to match them, his feet feeling more like they were separate from his body and refused his brains commands, much like when he was younger.

Then Steve heard a quiet voice.

“Relax, we’re dancing, not marching.” Bucky whispered. “Think of it as trying to tap out a message that’s all one letter or something.”

And Steve realized he was marching, or rather is stiff posture and struggle with the quick step was a bit reminiscent of marching caused by muscle memory and the sounds of the footsteps in synchronous didn’t help either, but Steve took a deep breath, and tried to listen to the instructor’s voice and the other footsteps.

Steve had a faint recollection of Archie’s voice going “no Steve, you’ll step on the dame’s foot if you use that foot,” and Steve’s healthy lungs made their improved health apparent in the next breath.

“And done.”

Steve stopped and opened his eyes.

“Well done everyone, not bad for a first try, now we’ll try again with some music, so you can learn how to follow the music’s rhythm to stay on beat, and then I’ll show you the basic footwork and once we’re done there, we’ll partner up and I’ll show you what to do with your hands.” Kathy announced, walking over to a small laptop on a stand in the corner which was connected to some speakers Steve hadn’t noticed when he came in. A song with a strong beat came over the speakers.

Steve repeated the exercise, still feeling as stiff and unnatural as his rebellious feet refused to move in the quick-quick fast enough and kept falling behind, Steve gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate harder, ignoring everything but the instructor’s instructions as she called them out.

When the song ended Kathy turned around and grinned at the class from the front of the room. “Alright everyone, great job, and some of you I noticed struggled and kept getting off beat, which is normal for beginners. I suggest you try and keep track of the beat by counting along with it, going “one, two, three-and-four” as you practice tonight to get the rhythm right, and I’m always open after class for additional practice for those who wish for additional instruction.”

Steve exhaled through his nose, suddenly realizing the monumental task he signed himself up for, but Sarah Rogers raised a man who was several things, a quitter was not one of them.

“Steve, you’re doing great, and you caught up with everyone.” Sam whispered as the class chatted among themselves and Kathy returned to the computer to restart the song.

“Alright everyone, now for the basic steps, leads I need you to watch me,” Kathy then turned to the mirror, and continued the instruction, “so the basic step of the swing is a step to the left, shift your weight to the left foot and lift your right, and then step to the right with your right foot, shift your weight to the right foot, then for the quick-quick, you’ll put your feet together and take a small step with your left and then right foot, and then repeat the steps for the next slow, slow, quick-quick, slow steps. Now copy me, and one, two, three-and-four, ready, go.”

Kathy then lead the follows though the similar dance steps, only in reverse with a step to the right instead.

“The point of this is to mirror your partner’s dance steps so you can keep up with them and do the more complex moves with ease, and let’s put it in to practice, leads and follows I’ll need you to pair up and we can practice our footwork.”

Sam was quick to have a partner ask him to dance, but it seemed Steve’s inability to get asked to dance seemed to follow him from the forties as everyone was paired up, well everyone but him and Bucky.

“Oh dear, I forgot that I had two follows cancel yesterday, would you gentlemen be okay with dancing with yourselves?” Kathy asked.

Steve felt a little disappointed but resigned himself to practicing alone before Bucky spoke up.

“Well, if Steve doesn’t have a problem with it, I’m okay with being the follow.” Bucky said, glancing at Steve in an open and friendly manner, and Steve smiled, feeling relief loosen its grip on his rib cage with a nod.

“Excellent,” Kathy clapped her hands, and then began to instruct everyone on the correct hand holds.

“In swing, we have leads cup your hands facing up, and turn them slightly to the side, and follows cup your hands over your lead’s hands and your fingers should form a connection that’s firm but not hard. Leads, you can rub your thumb over your lead’s knuckles, but your thumb must stay on the side, you’re guiding your follow though the moves, not holding her hostage. Alright, tug to test the connection, and we’ll proceed though the footwork.”

Kathy turned the music on, and then started the count off, and instructed their footwork, and Steve realized Bucky was a natural at this, even if he had a few moments where he started with his left foot instead of his right foot.

“You’re good at this.” Steve praised Bucky.

“Thanks, this is my second time taking this class,” Bucky admitted with a grin.

Steve felt his hands grow warm from where Bucky’s hands held his, and the warmth traveled up the arms, and Steve’s heart began to race a little.

“Yeah, this is about the time the room gets warm,” Bucky tilted his chin to the windows where Steve saw Medea opening them a little, “The room will cool down in a moment.”

Steve guessed that might be why his face feels so warm, seeing Bucky’s blue eyes staring back at him, then he missed stepped, missing the “quick-quick” and Bucky stopped, causing Steve to stop.

“Let’s try again, when you get off rhythm, stop and start again, ready? A one, two, three, and four.” Bucky instructed, and they tried again.

“Excellent!” Kathy called, “And that’s it for today’s lesson, see you all next time where I’ll show you a few more moves and introduce the rock step, night everyone.”

Steve let Bucky’s hand go, and Bucky left with a grin and his backpack, and Steve turned to see Sam grinning.

“Well,” asked Sam, “looks like you had fun.”

Steve’s stomach growled, and before he could say anything in response to Sam, or to propose they get something to eat, Steve’s phone rang. The ringtone was the same as his “Social economics professor” used earlier.

Steve held up his hand and Sam nodded as he changed his shoes.

“Hello, Professor Hill?”

“Fury’s got another lead, and he’d really like the expertise of Captain America and the Falcon, I also wanted to let you know he thinks it might be a code blue.”

Code blue, which means it had some information on the Winter Soldier.

“On it, thanks professor.”

“Everything alright?” Sam asked.

“How do you feel about a little field trip?”

“Does the professor need volunteers?” Sam asked, catching on to the code phrase, and from his expression, Steve realized he must have gone pale with the code blue.

“She doesn’t, but her TA does.”

“Let’s go then.”


	5. Dance All Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late delay, I've got a lot of final projects and a final test next week so I'm going to be a bit busy between updates, but I'll update as soon as I can, thank you for your patience.

The information about the winter soldier was a false alarm, but Fury did find a folder containing files on a jump drive that Steve protected in his uniform jacket, protecting it like it was a small child. 

Steve thought the Winter Soldier that he fought during Project insight was the only one.

_The Helicarrier was crashing around Steve, as he pushed his way, Charlie Lock successful and Project Insight was successfully foiled, then he heard the scream of pain, and looked down._

_His stomach dropped, and he saw the small body with light hair squirming under the debris of the collapsing helicarrier, face in agony and pale with pain._

__

__

_Steve instantly leapt down and began to dig the child out._

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_“Steve!” Steve heard Sam shout for him from the distance._

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_“Over here!” He shouted and heard the child scream again as Steve got a closer look, her mask broken in two and falling off her face, and his stomach dropped—God! She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old._

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_“You’re alright, I’m going to get you out of here.” Steve soothed, and he as he felt the helicarrier begin to buckle, rapidly began to dig her out from underneath the debris._

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_When she was free, she crawled out, showing the will, and some of the super soldier engineering showed though as she got to her feet, sporting injuries that would otherwise cause a child her age to collapse. Steve couldn’t believe he had mistaken her for Peirce’s niece._

__

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_Her eyes sharpened, and she pointed her gun at him._

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_“You don’t have to do this,” Steve urged, “You don’t have to be the asset Hydra wants you to be, you could be free.”_

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_Steve saw a flash of olive and brown and saw Sam was right outside the broken glass._

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_“It’s alright,” Steve urged, beckoning the child, growing more and more nervous of the shaky ground, and his own injuries began to twinge from the earlier gunshots wounds. His eyes returned to the muzzle of the gun._

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_“I have nothing now,” the child muttered, “I’m useless, I’m a liability.”_

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_“No, no you’re not,” Steve felt his heart lurch, suddenly frightened by the way the child was talking, and by the precarious position of the glass under the helicarrier cracking ominously. “Please, put your gun down, and please come with me, you’ll be fine.”_

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_She quivered._

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_“I failed the mission, I failed Hydra,” She murmured. “Lance off one head, save the rest.”_

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_Steve saw the trigger finger move and rushed forward._

Or so Steve had thought.

His phone buzzed, and Steve pulled it out of his pocket, the jump drive brushing his fingertips as he grabbed his phone.

“Rogers,” Steve greeted, not checking who was calling.

“Hey Cap, I got a message from my newest hire that you needed a computer?” Tony answered with his usual casual greeting.

“Yes Tony, I have some files I need to look at, but I don’t trust the source, got a secure computer I could borrow?” Steve asked tiredly.

“Do I have, you do know who you’re talking to, Right Cap?”

“A simple yes or no would suffice,” Steve responded almost irritably, but then pulled back to apologize. “Tony, I’m sor—”

“If it helps Steve, you’re in luck, while I get a cold computer set up for you, you can see Howard, he’s up for visitors today.” Tony answered brushing off the apology.

“Howard’s visiting?” Steve asked.

“Well his beach house is being repainted, so he’s here for a visit. His nursing staff’s been planning this trip for weeks, but if you head over now, you might make it before he wakes from his nap, you can distract him while I work.” Tony added.

“Sounds fair.” Steve reached for his pocket and double checked the presence of the USB drive and left the apartment.

Steve got to Stark Industries DC building, where Tony was working for a bit before Tony planned on returning to New York, and since Tony was in Town, Steve got a chance to catch up.

Steve arrived at the building on his motor cycle within the hour. Within moments approached Tony’s lab, where Tony had a computer set aside, and Tony gestured to the room where Steve knew Howard was sleeping, taking a deep breath, Steve prepared himself to seeing Howard again.

Steve hadn’t seen Howard since hours before Steve was frozen in the arctic, and Steve had heard that a comment of Howard’s years ago now made it important for Steve to learn to dance.

Steve check in at the lobby, got a visitor's pass, and went straight to the elevator when he heard a familiar voice.

“Steve?”

Steve turned around and saw Bucky, dressed in a rich blue polo shirt with a white button up underneath, the shade of blue bringing out his eyes, and he wore well fitted slacks.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?”

Bucky blinked, and Steve realized he had said something outrageously obvious.

“I work here, what are you doing here?”

Steve blushed and raised his visitor’s pass.

“I’ve got a friend who works here too, and I’m visiting him.”

Bucky looked at him appraisingly and then gestured to the elevator. “Heading up?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered.

Both men entered the elevator in quiet before Bucky broke the silence.

“Looking forward to class tonight.”

Steve remembered it was Wednesday, “Yeah, are you.”

“After the day of meetings and calculations, and testing new materials, I’m going to need to let off some steam.” Bucky muttered.

“Prosthetic business stressful?” Steve asked.

“Engineering’s a challenge, but one that proudly runs in the family,” Bucky shrugged.

“Your dad’s an engineer?”

Bucky stared at Steve as if Steve had slapped him with a salmon. “No, I’m Winne Barnes’ son, you know Winfred Barnes of Cook and Jorback enterprises? The engineering company that created efficient and accurate close captioning glasses for the hard of hearing at your local theaters?”

To Steve’s horror, Steve wasn’t sure he successfully masked his confusion at not knowing her name. She sounded important.

“Sorry, my mistake,” Steve gushed, “I really shouldn’t have made that assumption, my mom was a nurse and my dad served, so I get the appeal of following in your parent’s footsteps.”

Bucky still looked confused, and likely a little defensive on his mother’s behalf.

In the thirties Steve would have picked a fight with anyone who implied his mother was anything less than amazing, and Steve felt like a heel.

Bucky studied his expression and might have picked up on some sincerity because he relaxed a little with only a puzzlement in his eyebrows.

“It’s alright Steve, but you might want to look up Winifred Barnes when you get the chance,” Bucky replied, before the elevator ding, “This is my stop.”

And Steve’s heart sank as Bucky got off the elevator and on to his floor, and Steve stayed on to finish his journey to the Stark’s level, pulling out his journal to write down “Winfred Barnes” on it under “Troubleman Soundtrack”.

The Elevator door opened, and Tony was there to greet him.

“Come on in, the computer’s an old one, so if it explodes there’ll be bullet resistant glass to protect you, it’ll finish rebooting in a minute.” Tony explained, gesturing to an old laptop the thickness of a brick which the bots were installing glass panels around, “And Howard’s nap should be over soon.”

Steve investigated a back room which unlike most of the lab looked to be furnished with soft brown furniture and what looked like a plastic flamingo as the decor. The nursing staff with the stark logo on their scrubs were quietly placing a small cup of medication next to the bedside stands, and in the center of the bed was a very frail looking old man.

“Just don’t wake him, he’s been sleeping deeply lately, and swears when he’s pulled awake.” Tony warned.

“Thanks.” Steve answered at below a whisper.

Steve crept out and joined Tony at the computer, as the computer booted up, Tony shrugged.

“This thing was built before WIFI was a thing, but I’ve got WIFI disablers around it just in case.” Tony explained as Steve pressed the USB drive into the slot and it was inserted with a click.

Steve began to go through the files while Tony peered over his shoulder.

“So, what are we looking for?”

“Information about the Winter Soldier Program.” Steve explained. “That kid didn’t come from a vacuum.”

“We’re talking about… what happened during project Insight?” Tony pressed.

“Yes.”

The sifted through the files, and Tony was quick to point out most of the files that were encrypted.

Steve appreciated Tony’s help, and two hours later they were able to crack the encryption.

“So, the Winter Solider less of an individual and more an umbrella term?”

“I thought as much.” Steve sighed sadly.

“Mind if I go though some of this?” Tony asked, “We could use some of this to take down what’s left of Hydra, and we might be able to use this.”

“Go ahead.”

“Mr. Stark.” One of Howard’s nursing staff asked from Howard’s room. “Your father’s awake if you want to see him.”

“Why don’t we send in Cap first, I think it’s been a while since you two caught up.” Tony shrugged, but Steve could see Tony seemed a little uncomfortable. “Perhaps this time he won’t assume he died in his sleep again.” Tony remarked with a weak joke.

Steve couldn’t forget Tony’s warning after the Battle of New York, when Steve apologized to Tony what he said on the Helicarrier, and Tony brushed off Steve’s excuses with shawarma.

“He’s gotten… a little meaner since the stroke.” Tony had warned but seeing Howard for the first time in years shocked Steve, and what hurt more was that Howard hasn’t even recognized him.

That might be one reason why Steve spent more time with the son, rather than his old friend from the war.

Once again Steve was reminded just how much Howard’s brain was damaged.

Steve saw the frail older man, with silver white hair and wrinkles, barely seeing Howard underneath it and the snowy white hair underneath, and when Howard looked at Steve, Steve was reminded of an old chalkboard.

Like a pair of young friends had drawn a large portrait on the chalkboard and when Steve left the room for a moment, he returned to find the chalkboard had been erased, the drawing gone, and in its place his friend was a worn old man, and the only evidence of the project was the chalk dust on Steve’s fingers.

Steve mustered a smile.

“Hey Howard.”


	6. Jump Jive An' Wail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting, I just finished finals and I should have the next chapters up soon now that I have more free time, to celebrate this chapter is longer than the others because I'm done with college now! Yay!

Howard blinked at looked at Steve, “Who-who are you?” he asked out loud, but before Steve could back out of the room and switch places with the more familiar Tony, Howard seemed to make an old connection in his brain. “St-steve?” and Steve didn’t think it was in hushed amazement like it was with Peggy, more like he was confirming he was seeing a person and not a continued dream.

“Yes Howard, it’s me.” At least this time Howard wasn’t demanding to ask why Steve was in hell instead of heaven like last time.

Howard’s silver hair was disheveled from his nap, and he looked so tired that Steve was sure he was going to collapse on the spot or fade away. Steve scooted closer and took a seat next to the bed.

“’Bout time you showed up, my kid’s been working and having little time for his old man. Something about more efficient technology and artificial intelligence, or taking his girl out for a dance,” Then Howard shifted uncomfortably, like he had a massive amount of guilt to hide, but Steve already knew about the Manhattan project and Howard’s struggle with parenting in the past and didn’t want it to spoil their afternoon.

“Speaking of dancing, do you remember reading my horoscope?” Steve asked, wondering if Howard knew much about the comment Steve barely remembered.

“I read your horoscope?” Howard asked.

“Never mind.”

“No, I-I had a stroke Steve—when Maria…Maria…You’ve never met my wife have you?”

“No, but from what I heard from Tony, she sounded like an amazing mother.”

Howard sat in silence for a bit and Steve tried not to dredge up the painful memories that Howard was trying to piece together.

“So, I heard you’ve got a beach house, any new paint colors picked?”

“I also got a new skylight added for more natural light.” Howard added, “Should go with that flamingo picture on the wall.”

“Picture?” Steve asked.

“A painted picture.” Howard insisted, but frowning, as if he was aware that wasn’t the correct word. “On the wall.”

“A mural?” Steve asked when he connected the dots, and Steve wondered if the flamingo thing was new. Or was it flamenco?

“That.” Howard nodded, and they sat in silence before Steve pulled out chutes and ladders, and asking Howard wanted to play. Howard needed a game without complex rules, as he’d forget half of them and lose track of the others and that was a game that Howard would give up in frustration.

They played until Howard got too tired thirty minutes in, which was okay by Steve, he was losing.

***

When Steve left Howard, Steve felt tired, and almost as worn as Howard appeared when he saw Tony talking to Pepper, he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

Tony was softly grinning, and his shoulders were slumped a little more relaxed, almost as if some invisible blanket was draped over his shoulders, and Pepper was pulling up a hologram of some pie charts and a schematic of what looked like some sort of device Steve didn’t recognize, but Pepper seemed pleased, so Steve assumed it meant Stark Industries was doing well under her leadership as CEO.

Steve could see how both curled to face both each other and the hologram, both taking turns to admire the other’s face when the other was discussing a pie chart, and their eyes were bright with a grin.

Steve decided to see himself out, glad that Tony had someone in his corner.

When Steve reached the hallway leading out of Tony’s lab, he called out to JARVIS.

“Captain Rogers?” The AI asked.

“When Tony’s done talking to Pepper, please thank him for me and let him know I’ve seen myself out.”

“I will indeed and thank you for keeping Mr. Stark company until Miss Potts could arrive, that helped more than you think,” JARVIS replied, and Steve arrived back to the elevator.

The elevator doors swung open, and, looking relieved that the day was over, Bucky stepped in.

He blinked as he took in Steve’s appearance. Finally, he settled on a question, and noticing the button for the ground floor was on, stood next to Steve.

“I take it you’ve been here all day?”

Steve glanced at his watch and saw that it was indeed five o’clock.

“Yeah.”

“And we’ve got class next,” Bucky added.

“It looks like it.”

They stood in awkward silence in the elevator before Bucky cleared his throat, “So care to join me on the bus?”

“Sure,” Steve smiled, he was feeling a little drained from talking to Howard, but if he wanted to learn to dance, he’d have to commit or else make a fool and disappoint Tony.

He owed it to himself and his friends.

Bucky smiled, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a lot lighter and a little flutter that he didn’t have time to examine when his phone buzzed, and it was Sam.

“Just a second.” Steve excused himself and looked at the text.

“Where are you?” it read.

Steve flushed and then sent back “My appointment with both the Starks ran long, so I’m taking the bus with Barnes.”

The phone was quiet for a moment and then the phrase Sam is typing popped on the screen.

Steve glanced at Bucky who was simply staring at the door before his phone buzzed in his hand.

“Tell Barnes to take the window seat.”

“I’m not that bad,” Steve muttered aloud in irritation.

“What was that?” Bucky asked as the elevator door dinged to notify that they were on the ground floor.

“Nothing, just some advice,” Steve grumbled.

“If it’s any good, I suggest you take it.”

Steve followed Bucky out the lobby, turning in his visitor pass at the desk and the two climbed on to the bus, and Steve took Sam’s advice.

Three minutes later Kamala climbed on and Steve regretted taking her spot before she grinned and joined them in the seat across from the aisle.

She was eager to make small talk, and Steve found out that Kamala wrote as a hobby.

“Oh, could I read something of yours?” Steve asked.

Kamala turned pink. “It’s a fantasy romance.”

“Well, if you ever feel ready to share, and even if you don’t that’s fine, I love fantasy.”

Both looked interested in that.

“What’s your favorite book?” Kamala asked.

Steve was brought back to the thirties when He and Arnie were reading books from the library, Arnie loading up on books from the Byronic Romantic period, and both boys were kept up all night by Frankenstein by Mary Shelly.

Steve also remembered a new release and the only library book that he had to pay late fees for because he reread it so many times.

“It’s an old book, and I don’t know if anyone’s heard of it, but I really liked the Hobbit by JRR Tolkien.”

Both Bucky and Kamala burst into laughter and Steve was suddenly a little confused.

“I love that book, I read it as a kid, and I read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy before the movies came out.”

“I love the movies, I got the extended edition, and my friends and I got to see the last Hobbit movie midnight release.”

“My sister and I have a tradition of seeing those movies when they come out, it’s the one time a year she can come visit.” Bucky nodded. “We’ll figure something out when December comes, now that those movies are completed.”

Steve decided to change the subject, deciding to add to his notebook after class, and as the bus pulled in to the VA, Steve changed the subject to be about Bucky’s sister.

“Well she’s an investigative reporter, Dad inspired her to find the truth, but she wanted to write instead of taking photos.”

Steve decided not to ask about Bucky’s dad in case he was famous too.

“That’s really cool.”

Steve grinned as Sam climbed on.

“Hey Sam, how was work?” Steve asked as Sam slid into a seat behind Steve.

“Busy.” Sam just nodded, and he grinned when he noted that Bucky did, in fact, take the window seat.

Sam blended into the small talk seamlessly, and there was then a slight debate between Star Wars and Star Trek, and apparently, one Halloween Bucky dressed up in a rather convincing Luke Skywalker costume.

Steve had seen Star Wars already, and Kamala recommended the Star Trek episode “Amok Time.” But pointed out Steve might be better off starting earlier in the series first.

The dance studio approached rather quickly, and they were ready to start class.

***

During Class Steve learned how to add the rock-step to the basic swing, the underarm turn where Steve could spin his partner under his arm, switch places and then spin them back, a similar move where Steve lifted both hands together called the underarm cross. Steve could barely keep the moves together.

“And remember additional practice will help your muscles remember the moves which will make things easier,” Kathy added, “it’s all about silent communication with your partner, which will be important when we move on to the pretzel and the octopus moves.”

Steve tried not to take it personally as he approached Sam, Sam was a natural at dancing. Sam was in a discussion with Logan, one of the other leads, and the father of the father-daughter duo.

“Hey, Steve, Logan here was talking to me about his job. He’s a teacher.” Sam offered, and Steve shook Logan’s hand while Laura went to put her shoes away.

“Really?” Steve asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I teach art.”

Within minutes, they were talking about art history, and Steve only noticed at the last minute that Bucky had left.

Work out the conversation, about their schooling in art school and then past projects.

“Man, I remember when my art history class covered Guernica by Picasso,” Logan shivered, “Laura and I spent the night at my friend’s house because I didn’t want to be alone that night, and you can’t talk about the piece without talking about the Spanish Civil War.”

“I saw it when I was twenty-one for school, and I almost cried in the museum,” Steve explained, and Arnie, bless his heart, stayed up all night with him, even if Arnie didn’t understand why.

Sam understanding importance of the subject, waited until they were done. Logan looked like he considering something but did a curt nod when he decided on whatever he was thinking about.

“Hey Dad, we might want to go if we’re going to make it to Uncle Kurt’s for dinner.” Laura interrupted, and Logan glanced at the clock and almost cursed and grabbed his coat.

“Let’s go.”

Steve turned to Sam, who did smile softly at him. “It’s good to see you making friends,” Sam pointed out as the two left the studio.

And when Steve offered to get Sam dinner, Sam turned him down with a visit from his sister.

“Thanks though,” Sam said, and Steve went back to his apartment and noticed the light was on.

Steve crept in, weary before he saw his guest on the couch.

“You know, if I’d known you were coming, I would have had some food ready Natasha.”

Natasha just looked up from his couch where she was finishing up typing something on her laptop and gestured to some of the Vietnamese take-out on the coffee table.

“And spoil a perfectly good entrance? Besides, I can feed myself. Hungry?” She asked, and Steve’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since before visiting Tony and Howard. So, Steve dug in, taking a seat next to Natasha.

“A contact of mine mentioned something about you taking a dance class? And that you’re having a hard time of it?” She began with no preamble, but Steve appreciated her getting straight to the point. He wasn’t going to ask her why she investigated this because he knew it was her way of letting him know she cared and was willing to help.

“That obvious huh?”

“Only to those who know what to look for, and my contact only believed it because he trusted the source.” Natasha shrugged and took another bite of her salad roll.

Steve tentatively tried to dip his in the peanut sauce to try his salad roll, chewing on the firm shrimp and the tang of the mint matching the peanut sauce’s sweet mildness. Steve continued to eat some more noodles and chicken.

“So why didn’t you come to me? I’ve got many years of dance experience from the Red Room and some missions at SHIELD, it’s on my dossier.” Natasha asked.

“Well, you were rediscovering yourself after SHIELD went down,” Steve reminded her. “And I take it you know why I need to take lessons?”

“I think I do, but if you want to tell me, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight.”

Natasha set aside her food, leaned back into Steve’s sofa comfortably and gave Steve her full attention.

Steve wound up telling her about how a sarcastic comment inflated his non-existent dancing skills into a full-blown dancing master reputation. Steve continued to tell Natasha about the charity, and Tony’s offer to use the charity as a distraction. He eventually finished talking about trying to learn to dance, and to his exasperation how despite his best efforts he was failing.

Natasha, to her credit, didn’t judge him or say anything, instead waited for Steve to get everything off his chest, including Bucky.

She didn’t judge him, much.

"Huh, you didn't tell me you were attracted to men." Natasha observed.

"I'm what?"

"Nevermind," Natasha turned away, but Steve could see a grin, almost like she was plotting something.

"Natasha...."

"But we’re not here to talk about any kind of relationships, you said you have a charity coming up, don't you?"

Steve observed Natasha, but she wasn’t giving him anything else, so he decided to stay on topic and he’d trust Natasha to help him. "........ I keep losing the beat.”

“For someone who is so light footing while fighting, I’m surprised you keep losing the beat or seem to fail to relax because you’re very coordinated.” Natasha pointed out. “Well, I’ve got an idea to help you.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

“Two ideas technically, but first you’ve got to do me a favor, Steve.”

“Which is?” Steve pressed, knowing he’d draw the line if he felt her request was too ridiculous.

“I need you to get a full night’s sleep, I can see dark circles under your eyes, and if I can see them, then you must not have slept for a long time, and tomorrow dress ready to spar, I’m going to help.”


	7. Sway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get more Steve and Bucky interactions for the slow burn and we begin more interactions, sorry for the delay, I've been job hunting after graduating early, so real life distracted me from the fic, so you guys get an extra long chapter to compensate for my delay.

Steve managed to sleep for about six hours, which meant the lack of sleep he had finally caught up with him, Steve was just grateful that last night was dreamless.

Natasha was waiting for him at the gym at Stark Industries’ DC branch, texting the location to Steve as he got up, dressed in a black tank top and yoga pants standing barefoot in the middle of the wrestling mat. Her hair was pulled back, her eyes were sharp.

“Ready?”

Steve stood ready as she set her phone—which was playing a bouncy jazz song that reminded Steve of a cookie commercial he saw once—aside for them to dance, “What do you know so far?”

“Well, a few moves for Swing, the underarm turn and crosses along with the basic step,” Steve admitted, Natasha nodded and held out her hands.

Steve tried to get through the moves, and the night’s sleep did help in Steve controlling his feet better for a bit, but he lost the rhythm twice and had to start over to follow the beat of the music. Natasha to her credit didn’t say anything but watched Steve and followed his lead smoother than Steve felt he did, and if anything, Natasha kept the connection strong and she was able to push back better than some of the girls in Steve’s dance class.

“Alright, next I’m going to set up some training simulations, thanks to Tony, and we’re going to tag team, but we need to keep the connection, so at least one pair of hands being held. And we can’t say anything aloud, do you think you can handle the challenge?” Natasha asked with a sly grin. The Jazzy song started over again, sounding like Natasha’s phone was on repeat.

“Definitely,” Steve answered, feeling a little better to be in his comfort zone, and being aware that he was more comfortable in combat than the dance floor. Steve could remember Arnie gripping about how Steve seemed to be fighting his partners when Arnie tried to teach him to dance.

But Natasha was at home on the battlefield and on the dance floor.

The holograms of Hydra Thugs and tentacle space monsters filled the room and Steve quickly analyzed their current situation.

The Thugs ran forward with a charge before they split to surround them, and Steve pushed Natasha to the side, so she could take one down with a scissor kick and Steve adjusted their grip, so they wouldn’t lose contact, and there were moments where Steve switched hands, so they could keep their grip.

Steve had managed to feel a push from Natasha which caused him to turn and he mentally counted to four to find the right moment. When the moment arrived, Steve gave the thug a powerful kick and the thug crashed into a tentacle space monster.

Steve realized the music helped with the timing a little in syncing his and Natasha’s movements.

Then Steve saw another monster leap up from the floor aiming for Natasha’s face. Natasha was currently finishing the Hydra Agent she kicked.

So, acting fast Steve pulled Natasha close to him and dipped her. The monster sailed over her head and right into the face of another Thug.

Steve then realized them Thugs moved to the beat of the music coming from Natasha’s phone, and that meant that Steve could better predict their movements and could strike them down with the beat.

The battle ended with a kind of mild explosion when the last monster exploded, and to protect Natasha, Steve lifted his left arm, and he pushed his right hand forward and pulled Natasha close to him with his arms curled protectively around her. The song ended with Natasha’s back to his front and her arms crossed over her chest, but his back was covered in holographic acid goo and not her.

“See, I knew you could do it, and Steve, when did you learn the cuddle?” Natasha asked with a cheeky grin.

“Just now.”

“Excellent work my young student,” Natasha nodded in teasing pride, Steve rolled his eyes, not pointing out that he was older than she was. Steve gently lifted his arms and Natasha turned back to face him and they let go.

“Well, I’ve got a good teacher, and we work well together,” Steve replied with a mock martial arts bow, then he realized something. “Natasha, in about eleven weeks I’m entering a dance competition and I was wondering if you’d like to be my dance partner?”

“Thanks for the offer Steve, I appreciate it, but I’ve already promised Sam I’d dance with him when he called last night.”

Steve didn’t know that, but Steve was glad that Sam and Natasha got to talk and hang out together.

“You’ll have fun, Sam’s a natural at dancing,” Steve acquiesced, and the song started up for the third time.

Then they spared like normal, twice to music, once without.

That last time Natasha managed to pin Steve down after she knocked his feet out from under him, but it was—in Steve’s opinion—a near draw.

“One favor down,” Natasha huffed after pressing down on Steve to keep him pinned, “now the second favor I owe you, I know you guys got some data from a code blue, I got some strings I could pull for more information about it.”

“You’d do that Natasha?” Steve asked Natasha climbed off him and he clambered to his feet.

“Already got a few leads, and talked to Fury about it, there’s a pattern I know too well,” Natasha sighed as she pulled on her boots and the two started heading for the showers, “And if I find one, I’ll give you a call.”

Natasha ducked Steve’s grateful hug, “Whoa easy there, fighter, just remember that not all of them are victims like the first one.”

“I still need to give them a chance,” Steve insisted, “I might be pleasantly surprised.”

Natasha just gave Steve the beleaguered sigh and gave Steve a farewell hug, which Steve returned.

Steve thought he heard the click of a camera, but he didn’t see anything. Natasha, Steve could feel, sensed that too.

“I’ll see you later, and call Clint, he’s got a few projects he could use your help on,” Natasha said easily, but Steve could see that she was about to pursue the camera at its source.

Steve finished his shower and called Clint, who was having trouble with some arms dealers, and Steve was happy to assist.

***

“Hey Steve, I’ve got a great idea.”

“What is it, Clint?”

“You haven’t had a chance to learn how to pilot a quinjet right?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna learn?”

***

Friday evening rolled around after Steve took two showers and changed his clothing, but he still smelled faintly of jet fuel and smoke after a tree branch got stuck in the quinjet propellers while Clint was trying coach Steve how to fly one, but at least they didn’t crash or get very far from the landing pad.

Steve thought he did a good job covering up the smell until Steve switched partners and brought Bucky in to practice the Cuddle move and Bucky took a few confused whiffs.

“Steve, why do you smell like wood smoke?”

“A friend of mine had car trouble, and there was a branch stuck in it.” Steve made up on the spot, but he doubted that was convincing.

Bucky blinked, then began to step through the paces of the Pretzel move.

***

Sharon ugly laughed the next morning after coffee when Steve regaled the story, and Sam had the decency to hide snickers behind a napkin at least.

“By the way Steve, you still need a partner for the charity in about three months, right?” Sharon asked when she caught her breath, but the effect of the question was dampened by the fact that she was still a little breathless.

“Yeah,” Steve began slowly.

“I don’t have anything planned for the charity, unless I get called in for work, want me to be your dance partner?”

“Thanks, Sharon.”

***

The next week was a noticed improvement.

“Steve, it looks like you’ve made progress, and your rhythm has improved, have you been practicing?” Kathy asked when Steve finished the last swing dance of the night.

“Yeah, I had a friend help me.” Steve nodded, he began training to music for thirty minutes per training session to improve keeping track of the beat and realizing his potential with his coordination.

Steve kept thinking about his sparing with Natasha on Thursday and Steve came home from dance class on Monday the second week with a paper and pen note from Natasha about one of the files that caught her attention, so she’d be investigating the code blue for him. Steve texted her his thanks, he got nothing.

But that reassured him more than it worried him.

***

The rest of the week sped by in a pleasant blur, except for a nightmare Steve had Thursday night of the second week of class, exactly one week after Natasha helped him fight and spar, and to Steve’s frustration, Friday’s dance class brought Cha-Cha, and a new set of rhythms he had to coach his feet though.

“Remember leads, step forward, rock step back and step to the side in the quickstep formation three times, then right foot back, rock forward, cha, cha, cha and repeat. Follows you’re going to do the same moves, only your starting halfway through the dance.” Kathy announced to the class.

Steve to his embarrassment managed to step on his own toes and cursed under his breath.

Steve saw Kate Bishop, fellow lead, raise her eyebrow and Steve grinned sheepishly.

Then Steve glanced and saw Bucky’s encouraging grin, and Steve felt his face flush.

“And I believe that’s the end of today’s lesson, and I must repeat again that I’m here to help anyone struggling,” Kathy called as she stopped the song and closed the laptop.

Steve sighed and proceeded to move forward to talk to his teacher, and to his surprise, Bucky stepped forward looking sheepish too.

“What’s wrong gentlemen?” Kathy asked looking at the two.

“I keep stepping forward with the lead’s step instead of the follow’s,” Bucky admitted.

“And I,” Steve sighed “I’m having trouble with the cha-cha steps.”

“Well, I think I can help you both out gentlemen,” Kathy instructed, “Let’s first have you two set up a connection.”

She coached Steve where to place his hand on Bucky’s back, while Bucky’s hand was pressed on along Steve’s deltoid and bicep and Steve felt his face heat up and the arm tingled a little, but Steve brushed it off as Bucky still being extra warm from the vigorous exercise. Then Steve pressed his right hand into Bucky’s left hand, which he cupped, and Steve felt Bucky’s hand press against his.

“Alright gentlemen, now to start the cha-cha in a ballroom dance, we’ll need you both to step, Steve to your right, Bucky to your left, and I’ll coach you two through the rest,” Kathy ordered, “Ready, one and one, two, three, cha-cha-cha, one, two, three, cha-cha-cha…”

Steve took a side step and then a step forward with his left foot, and tried to follow the teacher’s instructions, and Steve was reminded of the exercise he did with Natasha, only Bucky’s attempt at a connection made Steve very aware of where they were touching each other.

Steve supposed the sudden awareness was really a novelty because Steve wasn’t used to dancing with Bucky as the group frequently switched dance partners among their classmates, except for Laura and Logan as the father and daughter duo danced amongst themselves.

Meanwhile, Natasha was a familiar sparring partner.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, and Steve was blown away by Bucky’s blue-grey eyes, then the song ended.

“Well, I’d recommend you two practice a bit more before next class, but you two are doing well,” Kathy clapped, and Steve let go of Bucky and stepped back. “And Steve, please be more mindful of where you place your elbows and hands, not that I think that’s a problem, but it’s a common accident for leads to accidentally elbow or smack their follow’s face if they don’t get their arm movements correct, so timing and clear communication is important in preventing accidents.”

Kathy, to emphasize her point, rubbed a scar on her nose where Steve suspected is where she had such an accident.

Bucky reached back, retired his ponytail, and Steve’s keen fighter eye saw the muscles of Bucky’s chest and arms flex with the action. Steve pulled his eyes way, so he wouldn’t make Bucky feel awkward.

Both men left the studio as the staff began to close the studio.

“I guess we should probably plan some extra practice time” Bucky began, pulling out his phone. “I mean, if you wanted to, for fun I mean.”

“That sounds great, are you free this weekend?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, and I’ve got plenty of space at my apartment,” Bucky nodded, then he paused “are you allergic to cats?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent,” Bucky then unlocked his phone and handed the phone to Steve, who pulled up the contacts and added his name and non-SHIELD related phone number.

Bucky grinned and texted him back with his nickname and a smiley face.

“Do you have any time tomorrow?” Steve asked, “I’d be willing to take you to coffee for your trouble.”

Bucky blinked and looked confused, “Uh I’d be happy to dance, but that’ll be it.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, feeling a little disappointed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at noon Steve,” Bucky waved before he boarded the bus.

Steve sighed in disappointment, and he still felt very tired from the nightmare he had last night, but maybe he was reading too much into Bucky’s actions, Bucky didn’t have to help him with their class work after all.

The charity was also coming up, and Steve got an email from Tony with details about the dance, not only was Steve expected to perform but apparently, the charity was inspired by Dancing with the Stars, which went over Steve’s head.

Instead of dancing for votes, they were dancing to drum up dollars, and apparently, there was a prize for getting first place by raising the most amount of money per couple. And while a tropical vacation sounded nice to Steve, he had a feeling he’d give it to some at-risk youths who might need it more.

These thoughts filled Steve’s mind as he made his way back to his apartment before something caught his eye.

A few magazines and a tabloid or two had images of Steve hugging Natasha. The headline of one newspaper titled “The Daily Bugle” read “AMERICA DISAPPOINTED IN THE CAPTAIN’S AFFAIR WITH THE BLACK WIDOW?!”

That, that wasn’t good.

***

As Steve suspected, he couldn’t contact Natasha.

***

Tony, used to being on the covers of tabloids, just advised Steve to ignore them, as there was no basis of truth in them.

Pepper offered to get Steve in touch with some PR specialists and lawyers if the article truly bothered him that much.

***

Clint just laughed and then said Natasha wouldn’t care what was being said about her and pointed out she’d be flattered at the idea but ultimately reject Steve for not being her type. And that Steve shouldn’t feel bad about that. Then the two planned Steve’s next flying lesson in the middle of New Mexico.

***

Bruce just offered tea, and went back to his calculations, as it really wasn’t his expertise, but he was glad that Steve was doing better after the fall of SHIELD.

***

Thor was off-planet, no surprise there.

***

Sharon told him not to feed the Trolls, then to tease him for the name mix up that was their failed date, called him Colin, to which Steve called her Becky in retaliation, and the friendly name game continued from there.

***

Sam just rolled his eyes and asked why this worried Steve.

“Well, Natasha’s a good friend, I don’t want the rumors to hurt her in any way.”

“Wait, Steve, is this left over from the war era, where people had a different relationship between men and women?”

Steve paused. “Well, the more things change, the more they stay the same, and I really don’t want anyone penalized by that double standard, and Natasha's my friend.”

“I’m pretty sure if Natasha was interested in dating you, you’d know it already, so don’t sweat it.”

***

Steve arrived at Bucky’s apartment at eleven forty-five am, when he climbed three stories to reach Bucky’s apartment and knocked on Bucky’s door.

It didn’t take long for Bucky, dressed casually in jeans and a graphic tee shirt reading “If you’re not part of the Solution, you’re part of the Precipitate” with an anthropomorphic beaker with a raised eyebrow, to open the door.

“You’re early,” Bucky observed.

“Yeah, may I come in?” Steve asked.

Bucky stepped aside, “Come in quickly, Pippin’s always been adventurous.”

Steve followed Bucky’s instructions and saw a white and grey blur dash toward Steve’s ankles only for Bucky to reach down and scoop the long lanky cat which began purring into Bucky’s chest.

Steve then heard some small rhythmic thumps and the sound of small claws plucking the fabric of a sofa in the corner before a small grey-brown blur darted out of Steve’s vision before disappearing in a semi-open door.

“That was Miko, this is little guy’s Pippin.” Bucky shrugged holding out the broken tabby male which watched Steve from Bucky’s arms with brown eyes.

“He’s cute,” Steve added, began scratching the cat on his head.

Bucky closed the door with a hip check and set the cat down on the floor, where Pippin butted his head against Bucky’s shin before darting to the same room Miko disappeared into.

Steve looked up to see Bucky sifted his weight and his throat bobbed a little before he spoke.

“So, let’s get this going then.” Bucky pulled out his phone and attached it to a speaker system before pulling up a song.

Steve held his hands out and Bucky took them and after a quiet count of four to follow the rather quick beat, When the guitar riff started, Steve began to guide Bucky though a basic step, then an underarm turn, basic, pretzel, basic, underarm cross, basic, and the cuddle for a few moments before Steve set Bucky free, and forgetting to do another basic and moving straight into an underarm turn.

Steve froze when he realized his mistake.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Sorry, forgot to add that basic move,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

“Don’t, that’s a combo, which trust me, most follows love, it’s just an advance move.” Bucky explained, “I learned that when I took the class last time, my date loved it.”

“Date? You’re seeing someone?” Steve asked, then realized what he had asked was way too invasive a question.

But why was it invasive, he asked himself, he and Bucky were just classmates, and if possible could become friends.

“Not anymore, we broke up a month after, but I’m good now.” Bucky shrugged, and Steve was relieved he didn’t cause more pain.

“That’s good.” Steve nodded, and quickly got back into rhythm and continued as the song continued as if nothing had happened.

They kept dancing, Steve trying to review the moves, and desperately trying to make sure he did the dance moves right, without stepping on Bucky’s toes or accidentally smacking him in the face with a hand or elbow out of rhythm.

His heart rate increased slightly when he realized just how fragile compared to him his dance partner was and was about to consider this a horrific mistake when the song ended, and Bucky was none the wiser to just how much this might have been a bad idea.

Bucky turned into a cuddle when the final notes hung in the air, and Steve obliged him without thinking about it. With Bucky in his arms, his back to Steve’s front Steve realized that Bucky was his dance partner because Bucky trusted him not to accidentally hurt him and that Steve had done the cuddle dance move without thinking about it.

They stood there for a moment before Steve noticed a medium-sized brown and grey tabby in long fur sitting on the couch watching them. When Steve made eye contact with the cat, she leaped off the couch and sprinted down the room and back into the bedroom she originally took refuge in. Steve could hear her galloping the whole way.

“Huh, Miko likes you, that’s good, normally she’d stay hiding in my closet for an hour if I have company over,” Bucky observed as Steve let him go.

“She that skittish?”

“Well she was an abandoned stray before I adopted her, so she’s skittish around people she doesn’t know, but loves to play with people she’s familiar with.”

Steve then noticed the half-chewed crumpled piece of paper at the base of the couch that wasn’t there when the song started.

“So, want to practice some of the Cha-cha next?” Bucky asked, “or more Swing?”

“Cha-Cha.” Steve decided.

“Well Cha-Cha needs a quicker tempo than swing, but a lot of pop dance music on the radio tend to fit the cha-cha tempo, so it’s easy to find songs to practice with, just try it out with any songs that fit your taste if you need to practice at home,” Bucky said, which sounded a lot like what their instructor said the other day.

Steve nodded and watched as Bucky picked a song for the cha-cha, and they took the basic dance position.

The song started with a catch and jumping beat, and after a few moments for Steve to absorb the beat, Steve began with the basic, then the cha-cha’s take on a turn, which mostly lead to Bucky having to do most of the work for that, since that required special foot work for him, and then more of the basics until Steve was ready to do triple cha-chas, which meant that Steve had to lead Bucky back through three variations of the cha-cha-cha beat, and then direct him forward three variations of the cha-cha-cha beat and repeat, and Steve went back to the basic steps.

Steve tried to do a variation of the three kinds of dance steps they knew, trying to be random in his selection of what they did until the song ended.

Miko didn’t leave Bucky’s bedroom, but Pippin padded into the room to jump up on to the couch to sleep.

It went on with four more songs, two were cha-cha, two were swing, and by the end of it, the two men were hungry.

“So, lunch?” Bucky asked, “I’ve got some left-over veggie lasagna I need to be eaten up.”

Steve’s stomach grumbled in response.

“Sounds perfect.”

Bucky walked into the kitchen where a pan half filled with lasagna was placed in the oven, and Steve could smell the tomato, herbs, and a little bit of zucchini in broccoli when it started to be reheated in the oven.

Pippin leaped on to the counter and started headbutting Steve for attention after Bucky pulled the cat away from the hot oven.

Steve gently started petting and head scratching the cat who started to purr loudly.

“So, after this do you want to practice more or watch a movie?” Bucky asked, sounding rather casual.

“A movie would be good.”

“Awesome, Lord of the Rings, or to go with the dancing theme Captain America, an American Legend?”

“The what?” Steve asked. He could not have heard that right.

“Captain America, An American Legend?” Bucky repeated himself, he stopped as if he realized something obvious. “It’s alright if you don’t want to watch it, not many people are into musicals.”

Steve was about to ask for more information before the timer dinged.

Bucky pulled out a pair of navy blue and white pot holders, and Steve realized they were covered in a few tiny stars of David.

“I wouldn’t mind watching that movie.” Steve began.

Bucky seemed to consider this as he put the lasagna on the stove and closed and shut off the oven.

“Awesome, I’ll grab the DVD and we’ll watch it while we eat,” Bucky grinned.

Then Steve heard the least wanted interruption.

His phone rang.

Steve quickly pulled it out of his pocket and Bucky looked up from cutting the lasagna.

Steve unlocked his phone, opened the text, and paled.

“Code Blue

—Natasha”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, got any questions or comments you can visit my tumblr [here](http://queenoftherandomword.tumblr.com) and you can listen to[the spotify list here](https://open.spotify.com/user/thunderboltsortofapenny88/playlist/10s2mZyJYbvcadr59dJj1m) and [thank my artist here!](http://thunderboltsortofapenny.tumblr.com/)


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